


Not coming home.

by HiAjay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WARNING! There are feels, a lot of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tila, please,” Stiles hid his face with his hands once he rested his elbows on his knees. “Don’t ask me, Please,”</p>
<p>Tila was the spitting image of Derek. She had birth marks like Stiles, Pale skin like Stiles. But her eyes and her eyebrows, her nose, the way she moved around. Was Derek to a Tee. A surrogate, at the time seemed like a good idea. But right now, Stiles regretted every decision that was made.</p>
<p>Stiles loved Tila, he loved her more than he could describe in words. The fact that she was Derek’s daughter in more ways than one—just hurt too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa, well hey. Uh, so the feels in this, I wanted to write this because . . . Well I know the feeling a little to well. Losing someone, I mean. And someone that close.
> 
> Annnnnnnnd I was kind of listening to this song that (I know it was more of a joke, but I mean, come on you had to like at least shed one tear.) just enhanced the whole feeling. So if you made it this far, I hope you enj---- Uh, you know. I hope it's a tear-jerker. Really, though I hope I worked well with the way it was suppose to feel.
> 
> (For the song just click the link in at the top of the Chapter)

_[And we're not going home, Ever again](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FheLa5JmIjE)._

 

Stiles sat in the kitchen with an oversized coffee cup in front of him. His elbow perched up on the table as he leaned into it. The steam from the warmth of the cup was long gone. Stiles ran his finger over the rim of the cup.

 

“She’s awake,” Scott’s broken voice shattered the silence that was swallowing Stiles alive. Stiles glanced up for a moment to catch Scotts eye. His face was lit in a sympatric smile; Stiles nodded but didn’t smile, he refused to smile. Scott left to the bed that was by the large window of the loft.

 

Stiles could hear him mumble words of comfort. Comfort that was numbing to the reality that was twisting in his own stomach; Stiles stared down at the coffee cup. He poured himself a glass, but he knew he wouldn’t drink it.

 

Stiles felt his chest tighten up, his heart was heavily beating against the weight the dense air he was inhaling. His body was tired and numb. He didn’t want to feel anything, he didn’t want to see anyone. Not even the child in the next room. He’s exhausted from trying, from moving, from breathing. Stiles wanted to give up, he wanted to run into the comfort of his partner.

 

His heart twisted in an uncomfortable turn as he thought about Derek. He’d refused to do it for almost forty-two hours. He couldn’t bare the clenching of his body as it convulsed forcing him to curl himself over the table.

 

“Papa,” A broken, soft, child voice forced Stiles to look up, “Tila,” Stiles voice was shattered and distorted. He pushed his chair out and opened his arms for her.

 

“Where’s Daddy,” She rubbed her eyes, they were red from last night’s crying when the news was brought to her, her voice was just as distorted as Stiles’. His body flinched as she asked the question. Scott stood behind her. His hand rested on her shoulder, she stood to his hip, and she was young and didn’t understand.

 

She finished rubbing her eyes and her eyebrows lifted in worry, “Where’s—”

 

“Tila, please,” Stiles hid his face with his hands once he rested his elbows on his knees. “Don’t ask me, Please,”

 

Tila was the spitting image of Derek. She had birth marks like Stiles, Pale skin like Stiles. But her eyes and her eyebrows, her nose, the way she moved around.  Was Derek to a Tee. A surrogate, at the time seemed like a good idea. But right now, Stiles regretted every decision that was made.

 

Stiles loved Tila, he loved her more than he could describe in words. The fact that she was Derek’s daughter in more ways than one—just hurt too much.

 

 

“ _Papa_ ” Stiles looked up at her, his eyes and nose were a horrible shade of red. He was forcing himself to keep calm. He held out his arms again. She pushed Scott’s hand off her shoulder and made her way for her Father. “Why do you smell like metal and wet, Daddy?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her cheek within the crook.

 

                                                  -------------------------------------------------------------- -------------- 

 

-          _“What do I smell like to you?” Stiles asked as he nudged Derek’s shoulder._

_“What?”_

_“My smell, uh, scent . . Or whatever,” Stiles laughed._

_“You smell like. . . Like you,” Derek grinned. Stiles huffed and jumped on his lap, his front facing Derek’s. “That’s a given, Sourwolf, what do I smell like in words that describe it?”_

_Derek pondered the thought._

_“Family—Pack.” He smiled as he rested his hands on Stiles hips. “Old oak trees, sorted spices, earth.” Derek looked up at Stiles; Stiles looked down at him with a smile painted on his lips._

_“But right now?”_

_“Lust,” Derek growled seductively. Stiles chuckled and leaned down, “Oh,”_

_Stiles pushed his lips against Derek’s and licked gently as Derek parted his lips to welcome his. Derek’s growls turned to soft affectionate rumbled the vibrated through his chest against Stiles. The kissed slowly, exploring sheepishly._

 

_“I love you,” Derek growled possessively._

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

Tila cupped her small hand on Stiles cheeks.

 

“Papa,”

 

“He’s _gone,_ ” Stiles voice broke in sobs, “He’s _gone_ , Tila,” Stiles looked his daughter, her big hazel eyes staring back at him “He isn’t coming home,” Stiles eyes watered, his throat tightened around the words, it was an uncomfortable itch that came with the sobs. Tila’s hands didn’t move as her father clenched his body inward, to curl within himself.

 

Tila slowly remembered, her eyes began to water and her lower lip began to quiver. “ _Daddy’s_ not gone!” She released Stiles face and she jumped a step back. “Tila,” Stiles reached for her, “ _No_!” She shook her head violently causing her already messy light brown hair to shake along with her.

 

She held her hands in fist tightly against her chest as she tried to sink within her own body. Her eyebrows were pushed down and together like a tight knit sweater.

 

Stiles felt empty, his heart was throbbing uncontrollably, his chest was tightening even more. He could feel his stomach twist and turn in unnatural ways. The wounds were raw and wide open. His expression as he could see from Scott’s face was broken and just as raw.

 

“I’m sorry Sweet heart,” Stiles sulked. “I’m-”

 

“I _want_  Daddy!” She screamed

 

“Tila, he’s _gone!_ ” Stiles never yelled at Tila before, and his shout took her by surprise. Her tears found their way out of her eyes without her help of blinking as she stared at her Father. Her expression confused, scared and lost. Stiles could tell she didn’t know who the man that sat in front of her was.

 

“Tila, come on,” Scott reached for her shoulder.

 

“No!” She screamed, “I _want—_ I _want_ ,” her cried began as she fell to her knees, creating a loud thump. Stiles slid off his chair and crawled his way to his broken child.

 

He took her in his arms through her protest. She kicked, pushed punched, screamed and sobbed loudly. “ _Daddy! Daddy!_ ” She screamed onto Stiles collar bone. Her fangs got in the way of her words which were now growls and howls of agony.

 

“ _Daddy . . .,_ ” Tila stilled as she clenched fistfuls of her father’s shirt, she was hiccupping through her sobs and cries. “ _Daddy,_ ”

 

 

                                        -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

-          _“Tila, come here!” Derek yelled from the living room. “Why are you calling her in?” Stiles asked. Derek smiled at his mate and gently leaned to_ _him and pecked him on the lips. “Yes Daddy?” Tila stood next to the armrest on the couch._

_Derek looked at her and smiled “Come here,” Derek patted his lap and Tila jumped from where she stood and sat on his lap. “TIla, do you know the story of Little red?” Derek asked_

_“Yes!” Tila answered happily_

_“Did you know your Papa is little red?” Derek pulled Stiles closer, Tila’s face twisted in disbelief. “No way,” she shook her head as she giggled._

_“Yes, and I’m the big bad wolf,” He exposed his fangs and she screamed in delight as she pushed on his chest. Derek held her close pretending to nip at her. Stiles laughed along with them, watching Tila flail her arms as she tried to get away._

_The playing settled and Derek held them close._

_“I love you, both,” He sighed happily, “Very much,”_

 

 

                                               -------------------------------------------------------------

 

They both lost someone—someone important.

 

“We’ve lost him,” Stiles shuddered and began to cry on to his child. Stiles couldn’t tell who was shaking, he figured they both began to shake at some point.

 

Derek was gone.

 

“Daddy’s _Gone,_ ” Tila whimpered sharp and painfully. “Derek’s gone,” Stiles sobbed.

 

He’d lost his partner, his lover, his companion, his polar opposite. Stiles was lost, broken, and scared. The realization sank in and he released Tila to Scott, She was pulled from him kicking and screaming. Stiles wailed as he convulsed and curled himself in half. He yelled just as loudly as Tila.

 

He hit his hands to the floor “You promised!” He screamed, “You _bastard!_ ” Stiles crying was hiccupped and broken as he rested his forehead to the cool floor.

 

 

                                 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

-          _“I love you, so listen to me,” Derek pointed a finger in Stiles face, “And when do I listen to you?” Stiles argued, he bit down on Derek’s finger._

_“Never,”_

_“Exactly” Stiles reply was muffled since he didn’t release Derek’s finger. Derek pulled Stiles close and removed his finger from his mouth. “Protect Tila,” He growled as he leaned down and kissed Stiles._

 

_“I love you, Stiles,” Derek touched their foreheads together, “I love you,”_

_\----------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

“He promised, he promised,” Stiles sobs were quieter, softer as he kept his forehead to the ground. The image of Derek’s face in his head, the sound of his laughing, the feel of this rumbling, the feel of his hands; Everything was vivid and real.

 

So why was reality so cruel?

 

Derek was supposed to walk back into the loft that night, this morning. Stiles heart was tight and it hurt.

 

Derek’s presence was still lingering in the loft. Derek’s _scowls_ were imprinted into Stiles’ memory, the way Derek would try not to laugh at his bad puns. Everything what was Derek was still so raw and _alive._  He's heart beat, his finger tips, his lips. Everything was-- was _Real_. How could life give Stiles someone, someone like Derek--- then take him away?

 

Derek was gone.

 

And that was their  _New reality._


End file.
